nnocent enough, I held each in the fire until I judged I had
rendered them harmless if poisoned they were indeed.

And now, though sore tempted to try my skill with this good bow, I
followed her down to the river-bank to try my hand at pottery, though
taking good care to carry my bow with me.

Being come to the river I laid aside bow and quiver, and cutting divers
lumps of clay (the which seemed very proper to my purpose) I fell to
kneading these lumps until I had wrought them to a plastic consistency,
and so (keeping my hands continually moistened) I began to mould and
shape a pot to her directions. And now, since I was about it, I
determined to have as many as need be and of different sizes. My first
was a great ill-looking thing, and my second little better, but as I
progressed I grew more skilful so that after some while I had six pots
of varying size and shape, and each with handles; and, though ill
things to look at, my lady found them all she desired.

"Surely they are very clumsy?" says I, viewing them doubtfully.

"But very strong, Martin!"

"And very ponderous!"

"But they have handles, Martin!"

"And very ill-shaped!"

"'Tis no matter so long as they will hold water, Martin."

Hereupon, heartened by her encouragement, I tried my hand at a set of
dishes, platters and the like, for as I grew more expert at the art, my
interest increased. So I laboured all the morning, working 'neath a
tree upon the river-bank, and my pots set out to dry in the full glare
of the sun all of a row, and I, in my heart, not a little proud of
them. But turning to look at them after some while I saw divers of
them beginning to crack and gape here and there with the sun's heat,
whereon my vain pride gave place to sudden petulant anger, and leaping
up I demolished them, one and all, with a couple of savage kicks.

"O Martin!" cries my lady, desponding, "Is all your labour wasted? Are
you done?"

"No!" says I, clenching my teeth, "I begin now!" And down I sat to my
clay-kneading again. But this time I worked it more thoroughly, and so
began to mould my pots and pipkins over again, and she aiding me as
well as she might. This time the thing came easier, at the which my
companion did admire and very full of encouragement as the vessels took
shape under my hands.

"Come, Martin," says she at last, "'tis dinner-time!"

"No matter!" quoth I.

"Will you not eat?"

"No!" says I, mighty determined. "Here sit I nor will